Southern Gentlemen

by Jennifer Blake

  “Your Honor!” Sam Franklin leapt to his feet.

  ‘I’ll withdraw the question,” Billy Ray said.

  The witness was excused, and Billy Ray took his seat beside Carolina.

  What gains he’d made seemed to trickle away in the next hour. Sam called one witness after another to testify to Carolina’s lack of fitness for parenthood. A preschool teacher of Kitten’s testified that the little girl had often been preoccupied and angry, and that conversations with Carolina about the problems had led nowhere. Carolina had missed appointments and made excuses, and more than once she had been late picking Kitten up after class. Billy Ray got the woman to admit that Kitten was always clean and well dressed, that she appeared to be well fed and never physically abused. She also admitted that many parents were late getting their children, and that the preschool had been forced to institute a policy to deal with the problem.

  Carolina jotted Billy Ray a note. “I was only late twice, both times because Chris was sick. And the only time I missed an appointment was when Champ refused to let me out of the house.”

  But the vision of Carolina as a less-than-perfect mother was forming.

  The pattern broadened. Sally Whitcomb, a former next-door neighbor, claimed that Carolina left the children in her care frequently, usually on short notice, and that they often seemed unhappy and tense.

  Another neighbor testified that she had heard Carolina screaming late in the evenings, and that she had feared for the safety of her children.

  “Was she screaming at the children?” Billy Ray asked when his turn came.

  “That’s certainly how it seemed to me.”

  “But you don’t know for sure, correct? She could have been screaming for another reason. Perhaps because someone was hurting her?”

  The woman drew herself up straighten “We don’t have that kind of neighborhood.”

  “No? I’m afraid everyone has that kind of neighborhood.” Billy Ray stepped back. “You reported the screams to the police?”

  “No.”

  “You didn’t? And why not?”

  She hesitated. Her eyes flicked past him. He was almost certain she was looking at Judge Grayson. She looked back at Billy Ray. “Because her husband took care of it.”

  “Her husband?”

  “Champ would tell her to be quiet. The screams always stopped.”

  “He would tell her to be quiet?”

  “That’s right.”

  Billy Ray consulted his notes. “According to my records, the closest wall of your house to the house where Champ and Carolina Grayson lived is twenty-five yards away. Does that sound right to you?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Did you often hear normal conversations from the Grayson home?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Could you hear a conversation spoken in a normal tone of voice?”

  “Not likely.”

  “Then when Champ told Carolina to be quiet, it wasn’t in a normal tone of voice. In fact, he was shouting at her, wasn’t he?”

  She glared at him. “I suppose he was.”

  “Now, you could hear what Champ said. You’ve told us he told Carolina to be quiet. Correct?”

  “That’s right.”

  “But when it was Carolina’s turn you only heard screaming. You didn’t hear words that you can report now? Just screams?”

  She didn’t answer right away. He had to prod her.

  “I guess that’s right,” she said reluctantly.

  “So you really have no way of determining who she was screaming at or why.”

  “No.”

  Billy Ray clenched his hands in his pockets, but he composed himself without betraying his feelings and took his seat as Sam, on his redirect examination, tried to clear up the doubts Billy Ray had raised. Carolina didn’t look at him.

  The neighbors and Kitten’s teacher were only a warm-up, good people, probably, who believed they were doing their Christian duty. The next series of witnesses had even harsher testimony to give. One was a bartender at a local hotel who claimed that Carolina was a frequent customer and that he’d had to refuse her service more than once because she’d already had too much to drink.

  Billy Ray had conferred with Carolina when the witness had been listed. “Have you ever seen him before?” he’d asked.

  “The only time I ever saw him was when I went to the hotel to pick up Champ, who was usually in a back room passed out cold. The next day Champ always went back and paid this guy to keep quiet.”

  Billy Ray knew better than to spend much time on a witness who would lie so blatantly and blithely. He walked to the front. “Before this trial, I asked if you would be willing to give the court the names of customers who might have seen Carolina at the bar, just so we could corroborate your testimony. At that time, you refused. Would you mind explaining why?”

  “I could get somebody in trouble like that. The guys who spend a lot of time at the bar aren’t always supposed to be there. Maybe their old ladies think they’re at church or something.” He gave what passed for a grin and winked.

  “Then perhaps now you’ll give the court some dates and times when you claim to have seen my client drunk, so that my client has a chance to defend herself.”

  “I don’t keep a guest book. I just know what I seen.”

  Billy Ray propped his hands on the railing outside the witness stand. “And all we know is what you say you’ve seen.”

  “I ain’t lying. Why would I lie?”

  “Why indeed?” Billy Ray said.

  The lies continued until it was almost time to adjourn for lunch. Strangers who claimed they’d seen Carolina drinking alone in bars. A furnace repairman who claimed that Carolina had been disoriented on the morning in November when he went to service her furnace and that he had seen an open bottle of bourbon on her kitchen counter. A baby-sitter who insisted that she’d been forced to stay behind one evening after Carolina returned home in order to get her into bed because Carolina was too drunk to manage it herself.

  Billy Ray knew the baby-sitter’s story. He had asked Carolina about the woman when her name turned up on the Graysons’ list “Did this woman ever really sit for you?”

  “Once, a couple of years ago. She was working for a sitting service then, and she came highly recommended. I caught her leaving with a silver pencil case I kept on an upstairs bookshelf. Of course I never let her in the house again. But I told the Graysons the story.”

  “Was anyone with you when you caught her?”

  “I think…You know what? Yes. My friend Eden Harper. We were in an evening exercise class together, and she’d come home with me to borrow something. She was there. She teased me about it for a long time afterward.”

  “Do the Graysons know she was there?”

  “I don’t remember telling them. But it was a long time ago.”

  Now Billy Ray stood and reserved the right to recall the witness later in the afternoon. He didn’t add that Eden, who would appear later as a character witness for Carolina, would be refuting the woman’s story and hopefully establishing a pattern of deceit among the Graysons’ witnesses.

  The judge conferred with the bailiff for a moment, giving Carolina time to whisper in his ear, “I don’t know if I can stand much more of this.”

  Her voice wavered. He didn’t look at her. He could only imagine how hearing these lies was affecting her. “You’ll be all right. We’ll break for lunch soon.”

  The last witness Sam Franklin called was Taylor Betz.

  Billy Ray got to his feet and asked if he could approach the bench. “Your Honor, I don’t know what kind of game’s being played here, but Taylor Betz is our witness.”

  “Your Honor, Mrs. Betz has agreed to give testimony that affects Judge and Mrs. Graysons’ case. Under the circumstances, I think she should be allowed to give it now.”

  They argued for a moment, but in the end Judge Sawyer ruled that Taylor could take the stand for the Graysons. With a knot in his stoma
ch, Billy Ray sat down.

  “What’s going on?” Carolina touched his arm. “Why is Taylor testifying now? They aren’t finished, are they? She’s on our side.”

  “Apparently not anymore.”

  Taylor, wearing a simple green dress and a bleak expression, took the stand, and the preliminaries were finished quickly. “Mrs. Betz, what is your relationship to Mrs. Carolina Grayson?” Sam asked politely.

  “We’ve been friends since high school.”

  “Would you say that you know her well?”

  “Yes.” Taylor’s voice was soft.

  “And were you approached by Mr. Wainwright and asked to testify as to her good character?”

  “Yes.” This time her voice was even softer.

  “Instead you decided to testify for Mr. and Mrs. Whittier Grayson, correct? In fact, you asked for the opportunity to do so.”

  “Yes.” Softer still.

  “Let’s go back in time a little. We’ve heard testimony today that Carolina Grayson has a problem with alcohol. Have you seen this demonstrated yourself?”

  Billy Ray objected, pointing out that the witness was not an expert at determining whether someone had an alcohol problem.

  “Then let’s be more specific,” Sam said. “On the night of December 20, which is the night that Champion Grayson died in an automobile accident with his wife at the wheel, did you see Carolina Grayson drinking too much?”

  Taylor hesitated. “Carolina was upset that night, and she was acting strange. She didn’t seem to want to talk to me or anyone. She spent the evening standing beside the punch bowl. The punch was strong, made with rum and red wine and some other liquor, I think. I had one cup and realized I couldn’t handle any more. But Carolina stayed there the whole night, and afterward I realized why.”

  “Your Honor, Mrs. Betz is simply making a guess,” Billy Ray said.

  “I’m perfectly capable of telling what Mrs. Betz is doing,” the judge said coldly, turning back to the witness to dismiss Billy Ray.

  “What happened right before Carolina Grayson left the party?” Sam asked. “Take your time and tell it exactly the way it happened.”

  “Sometime just before midnight Champ decided it was time to go, and he took Carolina’s arm in the hallway. I was the only one around. Everyone else was inside by the piano singing Christmas carols. Carolina shook off Champ’s hand and told him not to touch her. I was worried about her. She hadn’t been acting like herself at all that evening. So I asked if she wanted me to drive Champ home so she could stay a little longer.” She hesitated. “Champ had been drinking. He…he wasn’t in any shape to drive.”

  Sam waited, and when Taylor didn’t go on, he prodded gently. “What happened next, Mrs. Betz?”

  Taylor’s voice was so low that Billy Ray had to strain to hear her next words. “Carolina said no, that she would drive him. She said that she had business on the trip home that only she could take care of. And fifteen minutes later, Champ Grayson was dead.”

  11

  Carolina faced Billy Ray. “Yes, sometimes I left the children with Sally on short notice. I was off trying to find Champ or trying to get him home without anyone else knowing. He would call me and threaten suicide, or his secretary would call and tell me he had passed out in his office. I never knew when or what I’d have to do to keep his double life a secret. Of course the children were fretful at Sally’s house. They sensed something was wrong. It was!”

  He put his arm around her and pulled her to rest against his chest. They had come back to his office for lunch just so that Carolina would have a place to discharge some emotion. The morning had been devastating.

  He stroked her hair. “It’s not Sally’s testimony that’s going to be our biggest hurdle.”

  She pulled away. “John made Taylor testify. She wouldn’t have said those things about me if John hadn’t forced her. The Graysons got to him, and he got to Taylor. No one’s safe, Billy Ray. No one in this town except you and me will stand up to them! I’m going to lose my children!”

  “We still have the two psychologists, your counselor and our character witnesses.” He didn’t tell her that Fran had just informed him that two of their witnesses—one of whom was Eden Harper—had decided not to testify. And what about those who were still going to speak for Carolina? Had Judge Grayson gotten hold of them, too? Would their testimony damage Carolina more than it would help her?

  Carolina refused to be comforted. “They still have Doug Fletcher and the Graysons themselves. I know exactly what all of them will say!”

  Fran appeared in the doorway. “There’s a lowlife waiting in the library to see you.”

  By the expression on Fran’s face, Billy Ray knew this was something he needed to take privately. Fran bustled into the room and told Carolina to sit down while she made her a sandwich and some tea.

  “Just tell me this is going to be all right.” Carolina grabbed his hand. “Tell me you can make magic, Billy.”

  “I’m going to try my damnedest.” He squeezed her hand; then he excused himself, leaving Carolina in Fran’s care.

  Doug was waiting in the library. Billy Ray stepped inside and closed the door to face his boyhood friend. “I gather this isn’t a social call?”

  “I’ve got something for you,” Doug pulled a slip of paper out of his back pocket and handed it to Billy Ray.

  Billy Ray glanced at a series of digits, obviously a long-distance telephone number. “What’s this?”

  “Just call that number. Tell them who you are and ask about Francis Turner. You’ll get an earful.”

  It took Billy Ray a moment to understand. “Francis Turner, as in Frank Turner, the lab technician who performed the blood alcohol test on the night of the accident?”

  “One and the same.”

  All Billy Ray’s attempts to find Frank Turner and subpoena him to testify had met with failure. Turner had pulled up stakes in January, paid off the lease on his apartment, quit his job at the county hospital and disappeared without a trace. Billy Ray had planned to point out this strange turn of events to the judge as he presented Carolina’s case and ask that the lab test be thrown out because of it. But his chances were only fifty-fifty of getting what he wanted.

  Now he wove the piece of paper through his fingers. “You’re testifying after lunch, aren’t you?”

  “Yep. That’s the way things stand.” Doug hooked his fingers through his belt. “You might want to ask me a few questions about the accident scene, Billy Ray.”

  “I intend to.”

  “Well, you might want to ask me exactly where I found Champ Grayson that night. I was in a hurry, you know. Trying to get Carolina to the hospital. Trying to see if anything could be done for Champ. Of course the poor bastard was as dead as he could be, but I didn’t know that right away. I just might have left a few details out of my report, though. A few things the court might want to know.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  Doug looked away. “I’ve been remembering a few things myself this morning. Do you remember the time I crossed Old Man Roland’s land to get to the river, and I left his gate open by mistake?”

  Billy Ray played along. “Uh-huh. It was a good year for catfish, and you had orders to bring a mess home or your mama would tan your hide.”

  “Back in those days, if I didn’t catch a catfish or two, we ate butter beans and corn bread for supper and called it a meal.”

  “We had days like that at my house, too.”

  “Well, Mr. Roland lost a cow out on the road, on account of my leaving the gate open.”

  “I remember.”

  “He was going to have me arrested for trespassing, do you remember that?”

  Billy Ray didn’t reply.

  Doug shook his head, as if he still couldn’t believe it. “You told him you’d help me work off the cost of that cow. You didn’t have a thing to do with it, but you offered to help me out, anyway. You were twelve. We pulled weeds and picked fruit and cleaned manure out of h
is stinking old barn all summer long.”

  “Is that why you gave me this?” Billy Ray held up the slip of paper. “Old debts?”

  “Nah. It’s just that I’ve been living my life on old memories. Remembering what it was like to be nobody and poor and wanting what everybody had but me. I wanted to be a gentleman. I wanted what Champ Grayson was born to, but look where it got old Champ. I guess I’m going to settle for being a no ‘count redneck instead. But I’ll be goddamned, Billy Ray, if I’ll be a drunk along with it, or a double-crosser, either.”

  Billy Ray put the paper in his pocket and stuck out his hand. And the weight of the world seemed to lift from his shoulders as Doug clasped it in his own.

  Billy Ray came out of his meeting with Doug to find Carolina gone.

  “She’s over at the day care checking on the kids,” Fran told him. “She was too nervous to eat. I tried my best.”

  He should have expected it. Carolina was sure she was going to lose her children. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to be with them now, even if it was only for a little while.

  “I’ve got to make a call. Don’t put anyone through, but let Carolina into my office if she comes back.”

  “She said she’d meet you at the courthouse.” Fran hesitated. “She was upset. It’s not going well, is it?”

  “It’s not finished yet. But I’ll walk over to the church after I’m off the phone and get her. She shouldn’t be alone right now.”

  He made his call, and when he was finished, his body felt lighter still. He said goodbye to Fran and crossed the street. The Methodist church where the day care center was located was only two blocks away. He covered them quickly, but he didn’t even have to go inside to find Carolina. She was standing beside a tree looking over the churchyard where Chris and the other two-year-olds were sliding and climbing over bright plastic play equipment.

  Billy Ray came up beside her, but she. didn’t turn. “Does Chris know you’re standing here?” he asked.

  “He hasn’t even looked up. He’s having such a good time. He’s so easily pleased, so happy to go along with everyone else’s plans for his life.”